Game, Set and Match
by JadenXJesse lover
Summary: A cruel game of wits between two psychopaths, L and B. Strong language, violence and one occasion of a sexual reference. Full plot summary inside. Note: it's not a lemon. Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note


**Game, Set and Match**

**By JadenXJesse lover**

**A/N This is in an AU. Warning: Strong language, violence and sexual references M for those reasons (it's not, however, a lemon). L, an extremely successful writer and the world's greatest detective, has been married to Misa Amane, a professional model and interior designer, for 3 years. However in the last couple of months, she has been seeing another man, BB. They, apparently, fell in love and so she demands a divorce. Now BB is at the L's giant mansion in the quaint, little, rural English village of Winchester. And in this AU, the name Beyond is Italian, you'll see why in due course.**

A black Mercedes arrived on the gravel courtyard of the huge estate, after traversing long winding mini-roads from the main road miles behind the hills. Two security cameras sensed the movement and the image quickly flashed on, pausing an episode of Poirot on the flat-screen plasma TV which sat in a small edifice in a secluded study. The inhabitant made his way elegantly towards the door, through the large main room.

The walls were bare except for the abstract, monotone-esque paintings of rather arbitral lines and curves, not making any conceivable image, just a random, yet pleasingly neat mess of art. Little mirrored-chairs sat in a circle around a simple, yet artistically beautiful as a piece of modern art, table, holding bottles of spirits and a rather rare 1879 bottle of French Chardonnay, fermenting in its little holder. Standing proudly around the room were several, misshapen wire statues, seemingly a modernisation of Ancient Greek statues of athletes and heroes, as they were in sporting positions. One, however, seemed to be the artist's take on the classic _Le Penseur_ sculpted by Auguste Rodin. The rock on which The Thinker sits upon was portrayed by a clear, green, glass column while The Thinker himself was an assortment of fibre optic wires curving to form his muscle layout.

Out of the black Mercedes came a man, rather a mature teenager, around 19, striding charismatically across the courtyard. His thin, black, leather jacket, though a terrible choice for English weather, perfectly suited his lanky, though well-toned body. He wore some slightly flared jeans and leather shoes, polished to a King's standard. He stood now, at the door, stopping to view the magnificent, old walls, covered in a century's worth of weed and vines, giving it a very aesthetically pleasing ambiance.

He pressed the buzzer once. Silence followed. Once more and the door, though quickly opened, creaked.

"Yes?" Said the onyx-haired 24 year old resident, head popped out of the door, as though intently guarding his only haven.

"L? L Lawliet? I'm BB..." the boy replied, slightly anxiously

"Yes, yes." The older boy hurried, "Yes, I know about you... Backup, is it?"

The younger copy, as the two looked exactly similar, except for BB's piercing red eyes, showed no signs of impatience or frustration, just a relaxed, understanding, adult face.

"No." He corrected, "My name is Beyond, Beyond Birthday."

"Yes, yes." He said half-heartedly and then paused momentarily, "Come in!" he said suddenly with a sudden burst of realisation, "Please, come in." L beckoned for BB to enter the giant estate.

"Do you like it?" He said, referring to the design of his abstract, modernistic interior designs, "You know, the person who designed it was..."

"...Misa, your wife." Interrupted the 19 year old assertively

"Yes." The author replied, somewhat taken aback, "I see you've done your research."

"Naturally."

"Yes, she designed it herself, she's a woman of great artistry I must say."

"Quite."

"So, Beyond... was it? That's Italian, yes?" The raven asked inquisitively

"Yes, I do believe so."

"What's Italy like? I've never been, personally, though I have it on good terms that it's quite the country."

"I would guess so. I wouldn't know; I've never been and I'm not Italian." The younger one said charmingly

"Are you sure? Your hair is very gorgeous for a non-Italian." L stared admiringly at BB's black, soft hair, "Are you sure?" he stressed, "Perhaps your mother or a grandparent?"

"Not that I know of; I'm purely English."

"Don't suppose you have a pallet for spirits then?"

"On the contrary, a shot of whisky would be nice." BB smiled a slight-dominating grin

L walked over to the circular table in the wall-less lounge. He took the only shot glass on the table, filled with some fine Russian whisky, which he had prepared earlier on. He handed the glass gracefully to the young boy and swayed his own, tiny glass of gin and tonic slightly more potent with a drop or two of distilled Scottish vodka, which, according to the bottle, contained 33% proof.

BB drank his shot with professional speed and etiquette. The alcohol warmed him up dramatically, making his eyes widen, briefly.

"Ooh! You have a good choice of whisky."

"Yes, a dear friend of mine recommended this particular brand, after a year stay in Moscow. He says: "One has never drunk, until he has drunk the juices of Russia."" L seemed nostalgic now but was soon out of his trance, "Well, enough of this idle chit-chat, we must endeavour to solve our little... _problem_." A mildly awkward silence frosted the room, "Sit down."

Beyond sat down on one of the cushioned, black-and-mirrored chairs. He found the back extremely warm and comforting and soon slouched into a much more homely position with his left leg over the other, the leather tightening up.

"So we're here to talk serious business." L stated authoritatively and rudely, "I've heard a rumour that you want to marry my wife."

"Correct." The young copy blankly stated

"You don't deny it?" The author asked, surprised

"Why should I? You're wife wants out; she wants the divorce." Beyond bluntly stated

"No. She's my wife and she won't leave me. But if she truly thinks her relationship with you will last, then she can wait 5 years."

"FIVE years? Why keep it off for so long? She's never coming back to you, so why not just get it over with?"

"She _is_ after all my wife. I still love her." He said sternly and stubbornly, "It's good for her nature."

"What can I say?" Beyond mockingly contemplated, "We're in love."

"Inlove?"

"That's right."

L laughed with an over-sarcastic nature, "Hehe. Sorry. What do _you_ know about love? You look 13 and you have hair like the campest hairdresser! I doubt you've had any experience of it, other than the vast amount of sex you've had with prostitutes!"

Beyond sat, unwearied by this, "At least I've fucked your wife more than you ever did in 2 years!" He teased cruelly yet with the same amount of charm as when he first came to the manor.

"Follow me." L led the amateur actor towards a painted wall. The wall itself seemed to be paper, much like Japanese paper doors, and the picture supported that. It, like many other paintings around the house, was an assortment of thin black lines, though now forming an oriental-style cherry blossom tree, swaying lightly against the Japanese breeze.

With the press of a button, L slid the oriental-style wall revealing a small room, the back wall of which had an enlarged 'L' in black, followed by a list of titles. The titles on the wall were the titles for all the books L wrote.

"Ever read any of my works?" L asked curiously,

"No."

"Perhaps _Wheels of Time_?"

"Nope."

"_Red Spiders, White Bathtub_?"

"No, I don't believe I have ever read any of your work; shame really, I've heard they were excellent." Beyond said in all honesty,

"Well, you can take your pick from over there." The author said, uncaringly, as he pointed to a spinning display, which had all his books, arranged by popularity.

"I've had them translated into several languages."

Beyond scanned through the selection and picked out a book at random and read its blurb.

"No Italian version?" He asked, confused

"No, I view wasting time a useless deed. You see, the Italians, though they're excellent with their romance and cuisine, have no passion or love of culture. They see a book, read the first few paragraphs and then throw it back willy-nilly into the bookcase."

He looked away and at the fully-closed French windows. Outside, the Sun had ceased rising and it was now approaching mid-afternoon. Oaks and maples rocked gently as the wind blew across the estate, dragging with it grey, morbid clouds.

"You see, my books have earned me several billions; they have been so successful, as you can see, they have required translation into several other languages. This and my old job," He smirked arrogantly, "being the World's First, Second _and _Third Greatest Detectives, have all yielded me more profit than her royal majesty has and more than Africa, as a continent, has.

L paced slowly across the room and then led Beyond into his secluded study. It was unlike any other studies, rooms with an air of the old and classical. It breathed of modernism and was clearly shown, as no wooden shelves or bookcases were in sight. The classic, gentleman-esque wooden bookcases were replaced by glass shelves hidden behind the walls while the high-masterly desk, often found with heaps of papers and books was replaced by a bar-like table and bar-like chairs.

This room was not only L's most visited room and the hub of all his thinking, but it was also the control room for the alarm system. L, as he paced past the monitor, subtly brushed his hand over the touch-screen monitor, deliberately turning off all cameras and alarms.

The ex-detective looked at his half-empty glass of exquisite red wine, imported directly from the 19th century wine cellars of Bordeaux. He prolonged his inspection with a quick smell of the fine drink; it smelled of summer grapes, drenched in sunlight, obsessively fine-tuned by French farmers.

Beyond looked at the window thoughtfully, the tolls of autumn and early winter clearly dotting the area, pondering his next step pedantically.

"I'm going to make you a proposition."

"A proposition you say?"

"Yes." Only one glance and L immediately saw a distinct lack of alcohol in Beyond's glass. "More whisky?" He offered the young boy kindly,

"Thank you." The 24 year old poured the colourless liquid with the etiquette of a professional chef, "So, what _kind_ of proposition are you making?"

"In time, dear lad." He placed the bottle back down on the table of drinks, a recurring furniture throughout the house, "First, I have something to show you."

Once again the younger copy followed the raven, like a curious stray dog who was once domesticated, mildly obedient.

The older original let BB walk into the elevator, which stood protected by four walls of wire in the middle of the main room, though was refused. He, therefore, went in first, to show it was safe. Once the red-eyed boy thought it safe, he followed.

"How are you with elevators?" He asked, "It won't make you sick or anything, will it?"

The pre-war styled elevator rose up slowly. It arrived at an open bedroom, overlooking the whole lounge. The bed was, naturally, King sized and had enough space for three or four people. Beside the bed was a blue-lighted aquarium with several goldfishes, swimming about happily. The walls were white and had several abstract paintings hanging about.

"This is our bedroom."

L pressed a button on his universal house remote which made the stony wall, opposite the view of the lounge, slide into smaller segments and rise. This revealed a room-sized cupboard which instantly lit up as it sensed motion.

"And this," he pointed at the room generically, "Is my wife's dressing room. She left some dresses; couldn't be bothered to pick 'em up. Their worth thousands, this one alone is nearly seven thousand! Please, sit."

He sat, slightly confused, on the bedside.

"Listen, I'll tell you a little secret: my wife is a completely spoilt shopaholic. She lives for luxury and spends money as much as she breathes air! She wouldn't go and 'fall in love' with someone like you! Look at you! You're a..."

"Chauffeur, more recently, though I did go to drama school. She says it's my charm that takes her breath."

"That may be so, but she will, undoubtedly, always return to me, as only _I_ have the economic stability and vast amounts of cash to satisfy her." He replied calmly.

"So you're willing to marry someone who only 'loves' you for your money?"

"I like to think we have more in common than the average man-whore and her. And why are _you_ with her? Sure she's great at sex but for an average man she's too much!"

The two shared glares at each other, each with their own rage sparking into life.

"That may be, but your wife complained lots to me; mainly about how boring, egotistic and routine you are, not to mention you like her to top you." BB only glanced over his shot glass, but it was enough to start a small frustration in L.

"She belongs in Paris, Rome, the Ritz, not some jobless-actor!"

Beyond only stared behind the bangs hanging over his eyes. L sighed,

"I can go to my agent night after night and constantly search for a decently-paying job until I find one and if... _when_," he corrected, "I do I'll make sure I have it for as long as is possible." The young copy sternly stated,

"_Decently_ is never going to be enough!" L chuckled mockingly, amused by this young, charming boy's wit and stubbornness.

"Look, I'm not here to beg for money or get kind _donations_, you're wife wants a divorce." Beyond smiled amusedly, not quite sure why he was smiling.

"You... you on the other hand, are barely scratching a minimal fraction of a common celebrity. What are you? Out-of-job actor; you're out of your depth, boy. If you think you're scratching middle class life, you'll be out in the streets as a beggar when she's done with you!"

"Like I said, we're in love." He said with hints of offense in his eyes and a little smirk on his lips

"No, no, no! Never trust love, one moment it's all over you the next you're out mad on the streets begging for some stranger's love. One minute it's like heaven, the next you're bordering satisfied."

"Is that your own experience of it?"

"No, no." He said confidently, "That's observation; don't forget: I'm an author and a detective, I only observe people. I'm very much like a psychologist, though not as annoying."

"Arguable."

"Yes, quite." He smiled half-jokingly, "And as a psychologist I can clearly see you won't give up what she wants so she can't come back to me. And quite frankly she's been my bitchy wife for way too long; I don't want her anywhere near me!" The detective stared intently at the small goldfishes swimming in their own little blue world, "And so you see, I want you two to be together, forever. And unless you listen to me, it'll fall apart faster than the Twin Towers. Fortunately I've got a sure-success solution."

"Really? Do you know what? Hit me with it." Beyond stood up full of cockiness

"You know, I'm beginning to enjoy your charm and more of it."

"Fuck off! You're not serious are you?"

"Oh I am, truly I have never met a man such as yourself."

"I'm really touched." He said sarcastically

L smiled complementarily, "And I bet you, you never thought I'd be so clever, so witty that you'd have to make an effort on your wit. Cause I'm 95% sure you've never met a man such as myself either."

"Oh... I did... quite... About 85% sure.

"Last year, for my wife's birthday, I gave her some jewels. Well, I _lent_ it to her; it was insured under my name so I sometimes lent it to her, on very special occasions. _Very_ expensive. They're worth a million pounds. They spend some time in a Swiss bank and other time in a vault. At the moment they're here."

"What's this got to do with anything?" B asked impatiently

"I propose that you steal them from me."

B stood in shock, though was still thinking how stupid one can get.

"_Steal_ them?"

"Yep."

"W-what?"

"I want you to steal the jewels." He patiently repeated

"You want _me_ to _steal_ the jewels?"

"As I've said."

"Why would I _steal_ them?"

"Well you steal 'em, sell 'em to an expert who knows how much they're worth and run off with Misa. Simple. I won't have to deal with her and you two'll be off together. Win-win."

"So you want me to agree to this scumbag plot to get quick easy money from your insurance?" He asked rather disgustedly

"I thought it was rather intelligent. It's a situation where both participants gain something."

"I'm not your fucking slave! I mean Jesus! Have you even fucking thought about this?" He shouted, enraged

"These are facts!" The author said stubbornly

"This is stupid!"

"I assure you, it's not!"

"It's also a trap."

"A trap?"

"Yes! It's obvious it's a trap! Do you think I'm a fool?"

"Well are you?"

Beyond stood in the elevator, quickly thinking up a counter-argument.

"You've missed out some big details."

"Like?"

"You said it's worth a million pounds, say I do find a black-market trader who's an expert, he's still only going to pay me a fraction of that!"

"No, no, don't worry. I've sorted it out. I have contacts in the underground too you know. My contact, Mello, has agreed to buy them for 800K, tax-free."

Beyond stood blankly.

"Eight-hundred thousand pounds, _tax-free_."

"Why would he do that?"

"Because in the vault is the receipt along with the jewels, therefore, when you steal 'em you also steal the receipt. That way Mello can sell it off for its full price." The two stared at each other, "Think about it; no need to rush."

The two similar people walked out of the elevator and back into the study. The two sat on opposite chairs.

"And why would you let me do that?"

"Under all my mannerisms and quirks I am a decent, honest guy. Everything I've said is true. Think about it. What would I gain from lying? I don't want my wife, you do. I want to end it solid and forever."

"You're just jail baiting me. You hate me, and you want me gone. You're going to see me do this and then tell the police."

"No, because as it stands, if I were to tell the police, you'd tell them about me, we'd both lose. No, I'm being a completely honest man on this."

He continued pacing back and forth intently; every time the older original spoke made the idea sound more plausible and therefore annoyed him greatly.

"Well then just go ahead and give them to me."

"No, no, no! For Christ's sake, the house has to be properly broken in; and I can't do it since I bloody live here!"

B walked past L and towards the alcohol table. He poured himself another shot of whiskey, which he drank immediately. He poured himself another shot and held the glass fragilely.

"Suppose I consider this... ludicrous proposition; I don't know the first thing about breaking into a house, never mind a fully secured mansion of the World's Greatest Detective!"

"Don't worry." He replied calmly, "Obviously I'll take you through the whole thing. Please remember I _am_ clever, I've thought about all the details." He paused momentarily, "Eight-hundred thousand pounds, tax free." he repeated

"I'll do it on one favour," He paused with his glass, which then drank half of, "I get the 800,000 pounds, you make the divorce. Now think about that. I'm essentially paying you 200,000 pounds for the divorce."

L sighed, mildly impatient, "All right."

"Ok." B smiled charismatically, while drinking the rest of his shot, "Allons-y! So what do I do now?"

"See that skylight?" The ex-detective pointed at a row of windows in the ceiling, roughly two floors above them, "That's the only entrance that isn't alarmed; you get in there you'll be fine."

"What... seriously? It's a bit high up, don't you think?"

"No, no, you'll be fine! A fine, strong man like you could do that, no problem!" L said confidently

"You want me... to come down _that_?"

"Oh come now! Don't be such a wuss! You can do that easily, I know."

"Ok, ok. Two things first though," he replied, "how do you expect me to get up to the roof and get down from there? I can't imagine there being a lift just outside."

"No, yes there isn't a lift, but there is a vines-supporting-wall type thing, whatever they're called, which you can climb easily."

"And to get down?"

"Break the skyline first, then jump."

"Jump." He repeated sarcastically

"Yeah." L chirped, "Oh, don't worry, I've got a spare mattress lying about somewhere."

"Show me."

"W-what?"

"Show me... _now_."

"Fine, fine. I'll go get it."

L hurried towards a cupboard, besides the stairs going down to his basement. He opened it and dragged out a single-bed-sized mattress, surprisingly clean, having been in a cupboard for quite a while. He dragged it towards BB who helped a bit.

"There. Happy?"

"Security cameras?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Security cameras. I doubt a person with your history would live in a house without cameras."

"Off. I turned them off before hand."

Another shot of whisky, drunk in an instant.

"Ok. Ok. Fine. Allons-y."

...

"Can you hear me?"

"Yes!" B shouted as the harsh winds continued across the courtyard.

"All right, all right, no need to shout!" L laughed haughtily,

"To say it's a bit breezy would be an understatement!"

"Oh c'mon! Be a man!" he snickered, "Now go to the back of the house," B did as he was told, "Can you see the vine-fence?"

"Yes! But it's too high for me to jump for!"

"To your right there should be a shed and a stool beside it, can you see it?"

"Yes."

"Good, good. Now use that to climb onto the vines."

B managed to get hold of the vines and was about to scale them when L suddenly interrupted, "Don't forget to kick it away, so no one will get suspicious."

He did so and managed to reach the roof. He saw the skylight, through which he could re-enter the building. He kicked the glass and broke it with ease. He climbed down, so that his hands held him up while he dangled precariously.

"Wait! I forgot to turn off the heat sensors in the wall!"

"FUCK!"

"Ok, ok, I'll just go turn them off, shall I?"

"YES! GO... NOW!"

The author disappeared for a while to retrieve his remote, returning with furious pressings of buttons, "I think there must be a short-circuit somewhere." He said calmly

"WELL THEN CALL THE BLOODY TECHNICIAN!" Demanded the slightly-scared copy

"Yes, that's probably the best idea..." He paused in thought for a moment, "Oh, wait a second, I remember now: he's off to Jamaica with his family. Nice bunch, his lot; kids are a bit annoyin' but kids'll be kids."

"JUST GET ME DOWN, FOR FUCK'S SAKES!" tears were beginning to swell up in the failing-actor, "Please... Just get me down!" If he had been on the floor, he would have went on both knees and begged.

Lawliet laughed as he saw the young boy struggling and shedding tears, "All right, all right. If I remember correctly there should be a black-grey-ish button to your... left. That should turn 'em off."

And, as promised, B found the button and pressed it; the small red dots in the war flickered out of existence.

"You can jump down now." He giggled mockingly, "Don't worry the mattress is still here."

The raven-haired boy jumped down, very much not like a cat, on his side. He quickly got up, dismissing and hiding any tears from the traumatic experience.

"Little shit." He said bitterly; L responded with more laughs and beckoned towards the elevator.

"So, you're a thief, tryin' to steal my jewels, what'd you do?"

"I'd go look for them."

"Go on then!"

First, Beyond searched in the massive, room-sized wardrobe, frantically throwing dresses and shirts and pants about.

"I'm rich, eccentric and I only lend 'em to my wife on _very_ special occasions."

Now Beyond became, nearly, desperate and was throwing drawers and hangers all over the place.

"At this point I hear the noise from my study downstairs; I often sleep there. I come up and I see you, I try to get away quietly to call the police, but you see me, so you threaten me with your gun."

"What gun?" B asked exhaustedly, stopping his frantic search.

"This gun." L seemed serious as he drew out a 9mm pistol from his robe pocket, which he pointed directly at Beyond.

"Woah, woah, woah." B anxiously tried to calm the man in front of him, "You don't need to point that at me."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm showing you what the police'll think happened. So you threaten me with this gun, sayin' you'll shoot me if I don't show you where the jewels are. So I comply and show you the safe; go on."

"W-what? W-where?" He replied mildly scared,

"Behind the aquarium, open it." He sighed impatiently

"H-how?"

"With this, Christ you're slow." He threw his universal remote at the shaky boy, who pressed a button marked 'Safe'. The aquarium slid to one side to reveal a grey-ish safe, sitting in a square alcove.

"You don't have to point the gun at me you know, I'm not gonna do anythin' rash."

L shrugged, placing the pistol back into his pocket.

"Now open it."

"Code?"

"2307; our anniversary." He replied nostalgically

B turned the dial on the door and opened the safe; nothing was in it save a ruby necklace, engraved with Misa's name on it, a pair of diamond earrings and the receipt. The raven held the jewellery in his hands, staring at the marvellous and intricate patterns engraved in the jewels themselves, like fires preserved in crystal. He was about to put them in his pocket, when suddenly he heard an unmistakable _click_, the release of the safety cap on a pistol.

"What are you doing?" He laughed confidently

"Remember, I'm you."

"Ok, and?"

"So you make me take the jewels but I don't give them up so much so now the game starts. You threaten to shoot me if I don't give them to you and you prove it."

"W-what? How?" He asked nervously, slowly losing his confidence.

L pulled the trigger and caused a 9mm hole in the wall, breaking the aquarium as he did so.

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

"Put them back." Anger, rage and power coursed in his voice, "I'm making it clear that I mean business!"

"W-what?"

He shot another bullet which barely missed B's left ear, by inches.

"I said put them back!" He ordered

The younger copy complied, "There! Please just put down the gun." Tears, once again, began to build up in his eyes.

"The police'll come and I'll tell 'em I overpowered you and managed to get your gun, bang."

"W-what? No, no..." He pleaded, "We can sort this out! Please! I'll leave your wife! I don't even like women!" He went on his knees and grovelled like a mutt looking for a home in a hobo's box, "Please! Put the gun down! Look, she loves you! She s-says... she loves your... your..."

"My...?

"Your m-mind!"

"My mind?"

"Y-yes, she never stops! She says she's only with me to get you jealous. Now please put the gun down."

"Don't worry! I'm still in role." He smiled a fake grin, which reassured BB

"R-really? A-are you me or are you you?"

"Mmm, I'm me, you're you. So like I said... it's just a bit of role-playing." He waited until B was stood up once again, "Bang."

The 9mm bullet hit B at 11:46 p.m.

The next day, late-afternoon

"L Lawliet?" said the middle aged, slightly overweight northerner. He twirled his Poirot-esque moustache around his finger, "Detective Inspector Harper, can I come in?"

Even through the rough northern accent, one you might find on an industrial worker from the Victorian age, specifically in York, L thought his voice sounded familiar.

"Yes, do come in." He led the detective inside

"Got any beer, Lawliet?" He said, rather vulgarly, "I haven't had a bloody pint in ages."

L seemed perplex by the rudeness and vulgarity of his guest, "Sure, of course." He poured the 'gentleman' a pint of his beer, "May I ask why you've come here?

"I read your books, you see. They're bloody great you know; it's like you know exactly the mind of a criminal! It almost looks like you are one! Ha!" Already he had finished his beer

"Indeed."

"Another one please, cheers." The author re-filled his pint glass quickly, "Ever heard of a Birthday?"

"Yes, mine's on the 19th." L remained witty though he suspected something was going on.

"Beyond Birthday, perhaps?" Harper continued

"Beyond Birthday?"

"Yes."

"I don't think I've ever heard of him, I'm guessing he's Italian so is he part of the Mafia or something?" Now his hands were mildly shaking, though his pocket covered them easily, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I've never heard of him."

"Really?" He took out his cigarette and lit it, "Do you mind?"

"No, not at all, go ahead."

"Well, we've been lookin' for 'im, he's been missin' and my people tell me this was the last place he went to before he disappeared. Now, I'll ask you again, do you know him and if so, what happened to him, bearing in mind we know he's in a relationship with your wife."

"My wife?"

"Beautiful, she is." He leaned towards L mockingly, "Fine, fine body. Curves that'd make any guy googly eyed. She's also a splendid cook," he taunted continuously, "she did a bloody nice steak and gravy. Makes my misses look a bit off." He laughed

"Yes, yes." He dismissed the earlier banter,

"So I'll repeat the question: did he or did he not come here?" Impatience began to brew in the northerner.

"Yes."

"So you lied?"

"Yes."

"To a _policeman_?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm very disappointed in you, Mr. Lawliet, you of all people should know lyin' to an officer of the law isn't the best of things to do." Harper stared a disapproving look at L, who seemed undeterred, "What did he and you do here?"

"We... played a game." L replied, a small grin appearing on his lips

"A game? What _kind_ of game?"

The author paused to think of a reasonable answer, "A game of wits." He smiled, trying to show no harm.

"A game... of _wits_. Did this game involve any objects... oh I don't know a pistol perhaps." The first blow was done, L now lost all his confidence, though still managed to hold his façade.

"W-why would you ever think that?"

"Because I'd been told that a backpacker, who accidentally walked through your land, had heard three shots, coming from your manor."

It was at this point that L Lawliet, for the first time in years, panicked. He had never been convicted or blamed for any murders, as he was always the prosecutor, the hunter. Though he knew the mind of a criminal, well, he could not think of any past cases relating to his current situation. He knew no other way, except to tell the truth.

"Yes, there were three shots. I shot all three."

"So you _did_ kill Beyond Birthday?"

"No, I shot him with a blank. I scared the shit out of him."

"A _game?_ A _game_? With a gun? Three shots were fired!"

"P-please I didn't kill him!"

The beer-bellied looked at the panicking L with uncertain eyes, "Explain why he's been missing for the past three days then."

L's POV, the day earlier, 12:02 a.m.

I left him lying down on the floor, clearly in shock from the shot, to come around of his own accordance. He came around rather slowly, more shocked than most at the sound of gunshots, that his mind ignored the fact that it was a blank and automatically shut down for a while. As he did so I couldn't stop myself laughing my ass off! It was hilarious! The look on his face when he got up! That poor douche bag knew immediately that I won our little game, and he was shamelessly embarrassed!

After a while, I felt quite sorry for the bastard so I told him "Don't worry, you'll be fine!" I gave him another drink and left him to recuperate. He told me he'd be fine and it was game, set and match to me.

I actually found him quite handsome, I thought we could have been friends. I used humiliation to help us get to know each other, after all that's what most friends do.

Present

"You found him... _handsome_?"

"I was looking through my wife's eyes."

He looked at this deranged psychopath with a look of disgust and disdain, "So you say you shot 'im with a blank?"

"YES!"

"Well then where's the body?" He shouted, angry and outraged, forcefully putting L into a tight lock.

"There's no body!" Harper pushed him harder against the wall,

"Don't fuck with me sunshine! Now, where's the bloody body?"

"I told you! THERE IS NO BODY!"

The impatient detective inspector forced the raven-haired 24 year old into the slightly eccentric elevator. L struggled and struggled, slowly losing his breath due to his asthma. As they reached the top floor, Harper pushed L so that he had full vision of the room.

"Three bullet holes!" He pushed him roughly onto the bed, "Live bullet holes!"

Under the weight of the detective and harsh effects of his asthma, L choked out a reply, "Y-yes. I shot two live ones to convince the bastard, but the last one was blank!"

"So you say it was a blank?" L nodded frantically, "What's that?"

"What?" Harper pointed at a red patch on the carpet, just beside the bed, below a bullet hole.

"Blood!"

"Blood?"

"Dry blood!" He rubbed a finger on the patch, "No! Still a bit damp!"

"Impossible!" He yelled, now confused

"Whose blood is it mate?"

"That's impossible! Believe me there were no wounds or anythin' on Beyond! It was just a game! A game's no fun if you can't rub their face in defeat! It was a blank!"

Detective Inspector Harper hastily got up and went over to the wardrobe and picked up a pile of clothes, including a red-stained shirt, which he held up to the alarmed and worried L.

"I suppose you're too lazy to do the laundry, are you? I suppose this is just a wine stain?"

"B-but..."

"B-b- but..." He repeated mockingly, "No! I think a man like yourself would never leave clothes lyin' about all over the place!" He threw the clothes back to the floor, "They're Birthday's aren't they? AREN'T THEY?" He paced backwards and forwards annoyed and enraged, "You said after he recuperated he left."

"Y-yes..."

"_Naked_?"

"They weren't there before!"

"After the shots you made him go naked, you thought he should be humiliated even more did you?"

"B-but..."

"No!" He shouted, "It might have started as a game, but you... you kept going, you're mad you are. Bloody psycho! Now where's the fucking body?"

"I DIDN'T KILL HIM!" He shouted,

Harper quickly tackled him, in order to have hold of him. He violently dragged the raven haired L to the elevator and threw him to a wall.

"C'mon, you sick psychopath, you're knicked!"

"FUCK! Leave me alone! I didn't kill him!"

"You're kind makes me sick! The lot o' you, you shouldn't be allowed to live! Killed someone and called it a game, you bloody sick bastard!"

The detective inspector quickly threw L into the corner, as he exited the elevator, leaving the frightened 24 year old.

"There's something wrong! I didn't kill him! Please don't arrest me!"

"Come, come, son. Game, set and match to me." The out-of-job, red-eyed actor grinned cruelly. L Lawliet crouched in shock, staring at the young 19 year old.

"Holy shit." The beaten original quivered,

"That's right, Lawli-pop! You scared the shit outta me and now I scare more shit outta you! Ha!" He laughed like a maniacal boy, winning his tenth game of chess against his scientist of a father.

"You fucking bastard!"

The grinning, smiling Beyond ripped all of his prosthetics and coloured contacts off his pale face. He ruffled his midnight dark hair and took off the small beer-belly, a plumped cushion.

"B-but how? How did you... the clothes? T-the blood...?" He stuttered, amazed and enraged at the younger psychopath.

"Yesterday, you left me to recuperate upstairs while you continued, what I'm guessing was a bit of Poirot?" The other nodded, still mildly petrified,

"The blood?"

"Sheep's. I brought it cause I knew your type... I knew _our_ type."

"You sick bastard!" He yelled, disgusted, "You sick ass hole! Sadly you're also very clever. Did you tell her about this? About the detective crap and the bullets?"

"No, this is strictly between the two of us."

"So you told her nothing of this? And she's not gonna tell anyone?"

"I did even better..." The crimson of Beyond's eyes now burned with a cruel passion, "I silenced her, for good." A little smirk appeared on the psychopath's lips

"YOU FUCKER! YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" L tried to charge at the younger copy, but realised his limbs had gone numb and his vision was blurring into darkness, "What the fuck-?"

"Just a little injection; don't worry, that's the least of your worries now."

Beyond took out the freshly-sharpened knife from under his tightly fitting shirt. He brought the cold steel to his warm, moist lips, licking at the sharpened edge.

"W-wh-wha..." L's lips went limp, rendering his speech utterly useless

Slowly the deranged boy held the knife at Lawliet's blushing cheeks. Beyond licked L's moist lips, savouring its sweetness.

"You're loving this aren't you Lawli-pop? I can see it in your eyes, your sweet eyes. You're blushing and..." He moved his hand slowly towards L's nether regions, "You're getting oh so horny aren't you, my li'l masochist." He smirked once again, slipping his nimble fingers into the tight-fitting underwear, rubbing at the lump of moisture and heat.

"Hmmmph!"

"Well, tell you what, I'll spare you the embarrassment; oh this is going to be so much fun!"

The sick, twisted sadist slit the author's neck, brutally slicing the jugular, while licking away at the cut. His hands continued as L's soul slowly and painfully followed a Shinigami into the nothingness.

**A/N So I hope you guys enjoyed that, I'm not used to writing this kind of genre so what do you guys think?**

**Reviews and you shall receive cyber cookies and cyber high-fives. **


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